THE ICE KING

Chapter 9

Farewell to Spitzburghen

The next morning...

         Next morning, the boys awoke early. Gus was sleepy at first but Justin hustled him along and soon they were all packed up and ready to go. They knew that the big bad wolves were still at large and could be anywhere. The only safe thing to do was to get Jason out to tell his story and then home.

         First stop, the Spitzburghen Star!" declared Justin.

         Down the turret stairs. Down to the first floor. Into the lobby.

         "Checking out, boys?" asked Mr. Behr from behind the desk.

         "We might need one more night. It depends how things work out today. We have to get Jason home first though," said Justin.

         "I don't think so," said Mr. Behr sadly.

         Justin was on instant alert. "What is that supposed to mean?" he cried.

         Stockwell rose up like a nightmare from behind the desk beside Mr. Behr.

         "It means I have Harry Jr. tied up behind the counter here. And if you all don't do exactly what I say, I'm going to blow a hole in his head."

         Rickert emerged from the door leading into the back. He wore his usual, crazy smirk only this time it was smug as well.

         Jason whimpered.

         "I'm sorry boys," Mr. Behr apologized, "They got here a few hours ago."

         Justin drew Gus in behind him. Jason was already gripping his forearm painfully tight. His face was a mask of fear and hate.

         "Well, well, well! Justin Taylor! What a small world! And an unpleasant surprise!" said Stockwell, "Where's your butt buddy?"

         "What's a butt buddy?" asked Gus.

         "Nothing you'll have to worry about for a long time...if ever," answered Justin. He addressed Stockwell. "I'll ask you to watch your language around my son," he said bravely.

         "Shut up! Where is he? Where's Kinney?"

         "Bri isn't with us. He was kidnapped. I'm on my way to rescue him," answered Justin.

         "A likely story."

         "Well, it's the only one you'll get because it's the truth. How did you know where we were?" Justin asked, changing the subject.

         "After we got back into town we checked the phone records and tracked the call Helga received yesterday to this address. After that, it's amazing what information you can get while you're pointing a gun at a loved one." Stockwell divulged, as if they should be impressed with their detective work. They weren't.

         "Right then..." Stockwell said, "Enough talk." He lifted up several heavy coils of rope from behind the counter. "I'm sure you'll recognize this," he said. The knots in the rope were plainly visible. "Thanks for leaving it all behind. I figure we have plenty to tie us up one Goldilocks and and three Behrs! And then some!" He laughed nastily and advanced.

A short time later...

         "Is everybody comfy?" Stockwell said nastily, cinching the last knot cruelly tight and stepping back to survey his handiwork.

         Stockwell had tied Justin and Mr. Behr to chairs and back to back. He tied Gus up simply to Justin, with his little back to Justin's front and his ankles tied together and to Justin's knees. "You're a bad man!" he informed Stockwell solemnly as he was being tied up. Stockwell ignored him.

         Jason had been recaptured and tied up around the chest and his hands behind his back to immobilize his arms for transit back to the tower. Rickert had hold of him and the rope and was stroking him "lovingly" overjoyed to have his toy back. To Jason, it was his nightmare come true and he constantly jerked away from and bit at the probing fingers. Harry Jr. was still under the counter. Mrs. Behr was tied up in the kitchen, Mr. Behr had informed them. Things looked hopeless.

         "Well actually," Justin said, "I think my chair is much too hard."

         "And my chair is much too soft," said Mr. Behr, catching on.

         "And neither of you is just right...in the head," said Jason.

         "SHUT UP!!!" screamed Stockwell irrationally.

         There was a moment of silence. Then...

         "You'll never get away with this, you know," stated Justin, matter of factly.

         "Oh I don't know. I think I have everything...tied up!!" Stockwell laughed maniacally.

         "Maybe for now. But we know everything now. And we won't be tied up forever and when we get loose, you're finished. You won't win the election and we'll just rescue Jason again. We'll make sure everybody knows where he is and just who you really are!"

         "I really don't think so! You see, people will believe what I tell them to believe. And while you are tied up, I'll be telling them you all are responsible for Jason's disappearance! I can tell them I caught up with him the road south but couldn't convince him come back. Hell, I might even collect the reward! Who do you think they'll believe? Some stranger with no proof? Or the chief of police and soon to be mayor? And as for you..." he turned toward Jason cruelly, "I'm having the windows of the tower boarded up as we speak! There'll be no getting out that way again! And since everybody will think you're gone, you'll never leave there again!"

         "No! NO!! Damn you! You're a monster! A MONSTER! I can't go back in there! I won't! I won't!" Jason struggled mightily but he couldn't break free. "Justin, don't leave me! Help me!

         "Don't worry, my love! At least we'll be together!" comforted Rickert, pulling Jason closer and stroking his neck. The man had completely snapped.

         "UGH!! Don't touch me, you freak!" Jason yelled, struggling to get away from the probing fingers.

         "Don't worry Jason! We'll help you!" Justin said.

         "You'll help nobody!" sneered Stockwell, "Come on, Rickert! Let's get out of this dump!"

         "NO! NO! I WON'T LET YOU! I'M NOT DRUGGED THIS TIME! HELP!! HELP!!! HELLMMMMPPHHHH!!" Rickert easily hand gagged him and propelled him out the door.

         "Now hush darling or we'll never get you back home! Just think how great it'll be to be back safe in your tower again. No one will ever disturb us again," Rickert said in a chilling yet comforting tone.

         Jason just MMMPPHHH ed louder and struggled mightily. Suddenly he collapsed and began to cry. Rickert propelled Jason out the door and to the right.

         CLAAAANNNNNNNNGGGGG!!!!!!!!!

         There was a great ringing noise and next moment Rickert's body was hitting the pavement.

         "What the HELL!!?" Stockwell strode to the door. "Rickert, what the hell is going on out--?"

         CLAAAAAAANNNNNNNGGG!!!

         A frying pan hit Stockwell in the face so hard he was lifted off his feet and propelled backwards several feet before hitting the floor, flat on his back, out cold.

         And holding said frying pan, guiding Jason Kemp back into the inn gently, was none other than MRS. BEHR!

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         Mrs. Behr pulled out a small but wickedly sharp paring knife from her apron pocket and...SNIP! SNIP! Jason was free once again.

         Mr. Behr's face was wreathed in smiles. "I thought you were tied up in the kitchen!" he cried.

         "I was," Mrs. Behr said. SNIP! SNIP! And Gus was free. "There you go, kinderling!" she said, lifting him into a squooshy hug before setting him down. Gus giggled and gave her a thank you kiss on the cheek.

         "Well, don't keep us in suspense! What happened?" roared Mr. Behr.

         "Well, I'll tell you but I'm not sure you'll believe me," said Mrs. Behr. SNIP! SNIP! And Justin was free. "And watch your tone! I can easily leave your big bad Behr butt tied to that seat, you know!"

         "Yes dear. Sorry dear," said Mr. Behr.

         "That's better," said Mrs. Behr. SNIP! SNIP! Mr. Behr shrugged and pulled and he was free of those hateful ropes. "Well, as I said, I was tied up in the kitchen for several hours. But then, shortly after dawn, there was a noise at the window. And what do you know? There were two ravens outside the kitchen window looking in! Not only that, they seemed to understand that I was in trouble! Next thing I knew, they'd taken off and a few minutes later two large stones came crashing through the window. The birds came back, tapped out more of the glass and came on through. Where's Junior?

         "He's still behind the counter," replied Mr. Behr.

         As she went over to take care of her son, she continued her story. "At first, I was disgusted at having those birds in my kitchen. But they didn't do anything except fly over to my chair and peck my ropes till I was free!" SNIP! SNIP! "After I was free, they flew out the way they came.  I grabbed the heaviest skillet I could find and this knife and ran around to the front of the inn where I laid in wait. And...well, you know the rest."

         "Mrs. Behr, this may seem strange," Justin said, "But we believe every word."

         "And don't worry," Jason said, "I'll make sure my parents pay for your window."

         "Never mind that now!" Mr. Behr said. "Just get your asss-uhh-kiesters outta here and get Jason home!" He enfolded Jason in a big, burly, bearish, fatherly hug, "It's good to have you back Jason."

         "Thanks Mr. Behr! I'll see you again soon! I promise!" And with that Jason, Justin and Gus were out of there like a shot.

         The Behrs dragged Rickert's limp form inside and sat down to wait.

         They didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later Stockwell groaned and awoke and Rickert was not far behind.

         Mr. Behr and Harry J rose up and up and towered over the two evil men. They stretched their chests and flexed their impressive biceps.

         "So...You think my place is a dump huh?" Mr. Behr growled, cracking his knuckles.

         "What are we gonna do with ‘em Pop?" asked Harry J. He stretched his impressive chest. After being tied up for so long, it felt good to flex.

         "Oh, Junior, the question isn't what are we going to do to them. It's what aren't we going to do to them."

         Harry J smiled widely and ferally. "Pop, I like the way you think."

         Mrs. Behr brandished her frying pan. "Don't forget me!"

         "Did I say dump?" Stockwell sniveled, "I meant 5 star! Look, we all made some mistakes here!"

         Mr. Behr growled.

         "Look, let's not do anything hasty here! Maybe we can make a deal!"

         Harry J snarled. The Behrs advanced.

         Rickert cowered in fear. Stockwell stammered something else but before he could make any sense, the three Behrs attacked and were upon them.

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         Meanwhile, our three heroes ran their...keisters off and poked their heads into the Spitzburghen Star.

         It caused quite a stir. Everyone knew about the missing heir just not where he was. The receptionist alerted a reporter who alerted the editor who yelled "STOP THE PRESSES!!"...and immediately started to plan a new front page for a special late morning edition. They took pictures of Jason, of Jason and Justin and of all three, esp. when ("I helped! I helped!"yelled Gus, jumping up and down) it became apparent this was a group effort. However, Jason would only tell them that Justin had rescued him and who the culprits were and where they could be found. However, he promised to return later that day and give a full account with a no holds barred exclusive interview.

         After that, the only thing to do was run as fast as they could, with them sharing Gus carrying duty, to the Palace. Those inside must have seen them coming, for the gates opened before them just as they got there.

         They sped up the drive and before they could even get to the front door, it flew open and out ran Helga, screaming with joy. She ran over and threw herself at Jason who hugged her back fiercely. Then all together, they walked the rest of the way up to the house and inside. Helga slammed the door satisfyingly and locked it behind them.

         "Were you followed? What of the vermino?" she asked breathlessly.

         "They're under citizen's arrest and soon to be really arrested," Jason said, "They made a last ditch effort to recapture me this morning but we managed to escape with the help with some friends. They won't be bothering us anymore."

         "Good! Your parents are waiting in the living room. Kinderling!" she greeted Gus, "How would you like another trip to the Toy Box?"

         "Oh boy! Can - may I Papa?" Gus asked and Justin gave his consent.

         "Helga summoned a rather stiff, severe looking butler named Klaus to take him and watch over him and Gus danced away pulling on Klaus' hands to urge him on faster. Klaus was not to be deterred however, and led Gus away as stiffly as if he had been starched.

         Jason looked after them in amusement. "The Toy Box! My goodness, has it been that long!?" he mused, "I'd almost forgotten about...my goodness!" He gave himself a shake. "Ahh well! It's been a long time since I was a child in this house," he explained to Justin ruefully. "Ahh well! Shall we?" He offered his hand to Justin in friendship and solidarity and Justin took it as they walked together into the living room.

         The living room in which Ma and Pa Kemp awaited was long and angular and formal. This room was all in white. The curtains were gauzy and white. The carpet was white, the walls were white, and the two couches along each long wall were white. The coffee table was glass with a white wood border. The left wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows. The right wall had some artwork, abstract paintings of various white L-shaped angles tangled together. Justin's trained eye could immediately see that it had been a custom job as no artist worth his salt would willingly paint anything so devoid of imagination, passion or color.

         At the opposite end of the room, in two matching white, angular but comfortable chairs sat the parents. A third smaller, matching chair was set beside Mr. Kemp but throughout the interview, Jason studiously ignored it. They had to walk the entire length of the room to get there and Justin felt as if he were in some strange parody of a throne room.

         As they entered, Mrs. Kemp rose up and glided toward them. Her dress was a white, strapless sheath reaching down to the floor. Over that, she wore an airy, fluttering house robe made of white fur or feathers or both. Her blond hair and bloodless face completed her look. She looked like a rich ghost.

         "Jason, darling, how wonderful to have you home again!" she said, as if he were returning from a semester at boarding school or a long holiday. She embraced her son genuinely happy to see him and Jason hugged her briefly back.

         "Jason!" came the severe, curt greeting from his father.

         "Father." Came an equally severe yet serene greeting from the son.

         Mr. Kemp was 40 ish, shaved and dressed in a white suit as well. He looked as severe as a Southern prison warden and about as happy to see Jason as one does to see the cat who came back the very next day. He was too fat to be thin but too thin to be fat. Justin decided he looked like an oversized Col. Sanders or an undersized Boss Hogg.

         "And Justin," she said, embracing him briefly as well, "You have returned as well. You have come for the reward?"

         "I have come for what was promised, that is true," said Justin formally, "However, I also came as moral support for Jason and because until his kidnappers are in custody, it is very dangerous to be out there right now. We barely escaped intact this morning."

         "Kidnappers! My goodness! Just where have you been, Jason?" Mrs. Kemp floated back to her seat. Jason and Justin continued to stand before them, holding hands. Mr. Kemp shot them daggers through his eyes that made Justin want to let go but made Jason only hang on and squeeze tighter. Justin looked over and saw that he was enjoying his father's discomfort and remembered the stories about Mr. Kemp's intolerance. He smiled faintly and re-took Jason's hand.

         "When I first left, I meant to leave town. I was going to write you when I got to the next town. But before I could leave I was waylaid by Stockwell. He talked with me a bit pretending to want to advise me, then grabbed me and drugged me. When I awoke I was in the room at the top of his tower. I've been there ever since."

         "Stockwell!! Why should he do such a thing!" asked Mrs. Kemp.

         "For Rickert. The man is gay and the stress of being up here in isolation has driven him mad. He wanted me as his plaything. Stockwell wouldn't let him touch me until the election so they were keeping me prisoner and in isolation until then. However, even after that, I think they wouldn't have freed me from that tower room. I know too much about them now."

          "But why would they take you, Jason? Why did Rickert want you as a "plaything"?" asked his mother.

         "Stockwell and Rickert knew I was gay. I didn't realize it but I think Rickert must have been stalking me for quite some time. They must have been planning to kidnap me shortly after the election. But then I decided to leave and he had to grab me right away. The thing I don't get is how did Stockwell and Rickert find out about me? I've never told anyone in town I was gay, ever!"

         Mr. Kemp squirmed uncomfortably.

         "Father! What do you know about this?"

         "Ahem...Well, I may have mentioned...I mean it was a long time ago...was just expressing my disappointment...had no idea he was a nutbar at the time..."

         "You! It was You!? After all your neglect...your anger....you berating me into keeping quiet for THE GOOD OF THE FAMILY! YOU!? YOU outed me to that MONSTER!? You HYPOCRITE! Do you realize how lonely I was? How scared? How disgusted I was every time that disgusting troll sat there staring at me like he was a wolf staring at a piece of fucking meat!? And all the time it was YOU!! I'll kill you! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!!"  Jason lunged forward but Justin grabbed him and held him back. He managed to drag him back to one of the couches and sit down with him.

         "Let it go Jason, let it go. You be just as bad as he is if you do this thing. Let it go, let it go..." he soothed over and over for several minutes. For those several minutes, Jason's rage remained unabated but slowly, slowly, slowly cooled. The murderous light was replaced by a vindictive hateful one. Finally, he got up, and when he spoke the chilling calm tone that came out was even more disturbing that his angry raging.

         "All right. I have thought things through. Justin has told me that he only asked for half of whatever reward you were offering. You will give him double it, the snowmobile, whatever lessons he needs and just...whatever else he demands. I will watch to make sure you do it. And then...I am getting the fuck OUT of this house so I never see your face again!"

         "Jason, no!" cried his mother.

         "Jason looked over at his mother with a strange expression as if he wanted to give her a loving expression but was just to angry to pull it off. The closest it came was a look of pity? Regret? Both? Justin wasn't sure.

         "Mother, I do not include you in this. I will be sorry to not see you again. I will miss you."

         "I'll miss you too sweetheart. I have missed you, these last few weeks when you were gone. Where will you go? What will you do?"

         "And I you, mother But I cannot stay cooped up in this house any longer any more than I could my prison tower room. I cannot stay in the same house with one who is so "disappointed" (is that how you put it, Father?) with me. I assume I am disinherited. Good. I would not take a penny. I do not know where I shall go. Maybe I shall never stop wandering. I shall make my way in the world and use the education I have consumed to make another, maybe others, more worthy, unspeakably rich. Oh, Father, you are disappointed in me because I love and lust men. How disappointed I am in you, for you have money enough to buy and sell this little town twice over and still you lust for more. You have no idea of the kind of Golden Goose you have killed and how rich he will now make another."

         "Hmpph! I doubt you're that smart! Good riddance! I don't want you in this house flaunting your disgusting lifestyle anyway!" said Mr. Kemp.

         Jason smiled a cruel smile. "You shouldn't have stopped looking at my report cards. I am smarter than you could imagine. Literature, Business, Calculus, Microbiology, Psychology, and much more....plus a few minor subjects like Philosophy and Astronomy....all aced. University level." He finished, twisting the knife.

         "Now," he finished, "Take out your cheque-book and write out Justin's reward and double it. How much was that, Justin?"

         "Doubled, that would be 20,000 florens, but really Jason, that's not necessary! I only..."

         "You heard him," Jason said, overriding him. Pay him. Plus the certification for one free snowmobile and lessons to ride it. And anything else?" he prompted.

         "Jason, no, really! Half is fine! Only...well maybe the other half could go to the Behr family. After all, they helped too."

         "The Behrs! I'd almost...Justin, you are truly a kind soul!" Jason said, "He turned to his Father. "You will write out a second cheque after the first one for Justin's 20,000 to Mr. Harry Behr for 5,000 florens."

         "I - I don't have my cheque-book with me!" blustered Mr. Kemp.
         "Oh, Father, of course you do! It's in your left breast pocket along with a pen. Right next to the lump of coal you call your heart." Jason said relentlessly.

         "I won't! I won't pay! I won't be dictated to by a 16 year old !"

         "Oh Father, you WILL!' Jason finally dropped Justin's hand and walked over till he was directly in front of his father. "Because I've also been trained in six different forms of martial arts. Justin was right. If I killed you, I'd be no better than you. However if you haven't paid us off in two minutes time, you will never walk out of this room. More to the point, you will never walk again!" His smile was cruel and deadly serious.

         Mr Kemp looked at the boy who was no longer his son. Then he sighed and drew out his cheque-book from where Jason had said it was and began writing the cheques.

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         After that, things just seemed to fall into place.

         They went briefly to Jason's room but he only needed to gather a few more personal items. A backpack full of his belongings including his graduation credentials were stashed somewhere only Stockwell knew where. As soon as they were ready, they went to collect Gus and left the Palace forever.

         Poor Gus had to leave Paradise for the second time. When they went to collect them they were overcome with mirth. The starchy butler had succumbed to his inner child and as they arrived they saw him with Gus in his lap, sliding down the yellow slide into the ball pit.

         "WHHHHEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" they both screamed at the top of their lungs. Klaus' hair was sticking every which way but down.

         Justin and Jason laughed so hard they needed to hold onto one another to remain upright. And after they had joined Gus for 2 more rides down the slide and had Klaus take their picture with Jason's camera, Gus, at last, let them leave the Toy Box, this time forever.

         Klaus begged them not to tell anybody of his...indiscretion. Jason agreed on the condition that he let Helga and his mother know it was his wish that they give every toy away to the children of Spitzburghen on Christmas Day. Klaus agreed readily.

         From the Palace, they went back to the Star, where Jason gave his interview. It took a long time. Jason didn't realize how hard it was going to be and there were many times he would stop and have to have a cry or just stop because the memory was overwhelming; it was as if he were living it all over again.

         From there, they went back to the Inn where they presented the Behrs with their cheque. They were overwhelmed with joy. They had no idea this was coming their way. It was like they had won the lottery and immediately began planning ways to fix up the inn. Definitely new beds for starters...maybe improvements to the turret...a better bathroom, maybe an elevator...

         They left Gus at the inn with Mrs. Behr for just a few minutes while they went to the police station where Stockwell and Rickert were locked up in their own jail.

         "OK, assholes, where's my stuff?" demanded Jason.

         "What stuff?" Stockwell sneered.

         "My backpack of stuff I had right before you chloroformed me, you dick! You kidnapped me and stashed it somewhere. I want it back! Now!"

         "I don't know what you're talking about!"

         "I was half hoping, you'd do it the easy way," Jason said, "The other half of me is glad you didn't!"

         He went out into the hallway. "He doesn't know what I'm talking about!" he called to someone.

         "Hey! Who are you yelling to?"

         Jason didn't answer. He just stood there with a small smile playing upon his adorable mouth.

         Heavy footfalls sounded. The ground vibrated a little with each huge step.  The two villains cowered together in fear.

         "I decided to engage in some personal protection," Jason said, "I think you're familiar with...my bodyguards."

         The two hulking giants loomed in front of the cell.

         "What's the problem, Jason?" one asked.

         "Stockwell can't remember where he put my stuff after he abducted me." Jason said.

         "Oh really!" the second, bigger bodyguard said. He began to pound a meaty fist into a meaty palm. The two prisoners began to follow the rhythmic movement hypnotically. "Well, let's see what we can do to...refresh his memory."

         "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!" the prisoners wailed, "Don't let them in here!!"

         However, the guard was an honest cop who was pretty pissed off at the chief's corrupt behaviour. He opened the cell door willingly.

         "You have 5 minutes," he said, "Ahhh what the hell! Make it 10!"

         Still smacking their fists into their palms, the two Harry Behrs entered the cell.

         Turns out, they only needed 2.

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         That was the end of Stockwell's election. Once again he was thwarted in an attempt to become mayor. At their arraignment, Stockwell and Rickert pled guilty, of course, so there was no lengthy trial. Of course their guilty plea may have had something to do with the two hulking figures in the back who were smacking their fists into their palms. But one never knows these things.

         Stockwell and Rickert were tarred and feathered and rode out of town on a rail. Literally. They poured goopy hot tar all over them, used duck and turkey feathers and stuck them onto an iron rail, straddling it. Then they ran them out of town. This really was a strange little town.

         The next day after the interview and getting Jason's stuff back, Jason and Justin went to the snowmobile factory. Justin picked out a sweet, streamlined model in charcoal blue. Jason had them attach a smaller seat to the back with special straps for Gus.

         Unfortunately, it turned out driving a snowmobile was a lot harder than Justin imagined. He needed another week of intense practice with an instructor before he was ready. Suddenly, it was December 18, 2010.  But at last, they were ready to get going the next day. They were enjoying their last dinner in the turret room.

         "Thank-you Justin. I owe you my life. I'll never forget you."

         "Where will you go?"

         "I don't know. I guess I'll just adhere to my original plan and walk until I come to the next town and earn my way in the world. I can do anything I like and then move on."

         "Or....You can come with us! Come and help us rescue Bri! See the Ice King! And come back with us to Pittsburgh! There's a lady there who's loud and proud and bold and as accepting of gays as your father was disapproving! You can stay with her until you get your own place. How about it? Come with us!?"

         "Yeah! Jas'n come!" Gus yelled, jumping up and down on the bed.

         Jason thought about it. Why not? One adventure was as good as another. And this way he could have a plan, a destination, a home with Justin in the mix, and possibly with other gays, people who would accept him instead of mass rejection. It was better than no plan at all, aimless drifting.

         "OK! Yes! Yes, I will come!" he cried.

         "Justin beamed and Gus squealed and threw himself into his arms. Jason hugged the tyke back and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. That was when he realized there really wasn't a choice about it after all.

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         Next day they were off. The whole town lined the streets to see them off. They were heroes for saving Jason and saving them from Stockwell. They threw confetti and ticker tape and cheered until they were hoarse. Justin drove slowly down the main street and they waved to everybody. As they reached the end of the town, the two ravens swooped down from nowhere and alighted on them.

         "Good bye! Good bye! We shall miss you! We shall miss you! To be sure! To be sure!" croaked the ravens.

         "Good bye Jack! Good bye Jacques! Thank you for all your help!" they cried.

         Then the raven flew off and there was nothing for it but to rev the snowmobile and open her up and zoom off to the north. They had five enormous gas cans filled to the top affixed to the back of the snowmobile in metal frames that had been bolted on, two on each side and one on the back. Below that on each side were panniers filled with their belongings and provisions. All the grocery stores and fruit and vegetable sellers insisted on contributing to them so they had plenty of food. Gus was snug in his seat.

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         And then there came three days where they did nothing but drive northwards, eat, drive some more, camp for the night in a hasty snow shelter and then drive on again at dawn's light.

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         On the third day, Dec 22, they were swishing along the snow as usual. They all were wearing helmets for safety and sunglasses to prevent snow blindness. They were making good time.

          Suddenly there was a PING ing kind of noise and Jason looked around. It was almost as if it were their imagination.

         To his horror, he saw that a hole had been shot in one of the gas cans. A steady line of gas was leaking out across the snow.

         To Jason's deeper horror he saw rather than heard the gas catch fire behind them, as if some invisible demon had lit a match to the end of the gas trail. But gas did not spontaneously combust. Someone who was a crack shot had set it alight.

         As the mad marksman had intended, the fire ate the gas in a terrifying trail toward the snowmobile. Jason tapped Justin on the shoulder and pointed frantically. Justin saw and sped up.

         Justin made indications and Jason obeyed. It was hard to hear over the motor so they had learned to communicate in signals.

         Jason reached down and flicked a switch and disengaged the panniers. They went rolling across the snow. Jason began fiddling with Gus' straps. He pushed and pushed the button but it wouldn't disengage.

         The trail of fire ate the gas greedily. Faster and faster, closer and closer it came. They couldn't avoid it. It caught up with the snowmobile. The can exploded. The snow mobile flipped over and rolled. The remaining gas caught fire and with a whoosh and a roar the snowmobile exploded in a huge fireball.

TBC